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Annie laid out supplies on a silver metal tray. “We got a memo asking for our patience and instructing us not to open any external emails until further notice. Seems we’re operating on a slower backup server.”
Rosalie’s professional instincts sparked like a live wire. “Was there a phishing attack on the hospital?”
“A what, dear?”
Rosalie shook her head. “Nothing.” If Annie didn’t know a phishing attack was a cybercriminal’s gateway into a network, then whoever ran this hospital should be fired. There was no excuse for not educating staff about the dangers of clicking on a suspicious email and unleashing a corrupting virus.
She pulled out her phone and shot a quick text to Paul, her boss and special agent in charge of the Denver field office, asking if Red Snow Hospital had reported a ransomware attack.
“You have a mark.” Annie patted Rosalie’s bare shoulder. “Did the snowboard clip you here too?”
She glanced at the reddish-pink blemish hugging the strap of her tank top. A blush rose to her cheek. Yeah, she’d been marked all right. Marked by a mountain man she’d never see again. “No, I was just hit in the forehead.”
“Sit tight. A doctor will be with you soon. Nice meeting you, and thanks for your patience.”
Annie walked to the curtain and slid it open. Rosalie braced for the sound of metal sliding against metal but couldn’t stop a cringe. Sometimes, she heard the clanking sound in her sleep and woke up in a sweat.
Pulling in a slow breath, she quieted her memories and focused on the present.
A child in the neighboring room wailed for his mama. An angry-sounding man beckoned a nurse. Rushed footsteps sounded beyond the curtain. If her instincts about a ransomware attack were right, and they always were, this hospital was in the throes of an administrative nightmare.
She hoped leadership had had the sense to invest in cybersecurity insurance. They obviously hadn’t invested in ER upgrades. The seats in the waiting room had creaked like the gears on a chairlift. Dingy walls begged for fresh paint. Even the paper hearts taped to the nurses’ desk seemed sad.
God, she hated Valentine’s Day.
At least the computers looked new. Little good they would do if a terrorist seized the organization’s network and demanded money to unlock it.
Knowledge of cybercriminals who would commit such a crime jammed her mind, but the monster she’d been chasing fortwo years held center stage. A permanent reminder of how he’d retaliated when she’d bested him at his game tattooed her lower back, yet she still clung to her convictions.
No matter what he or any other terrorists demanded—never pay the ransom.
A scream torethrough Rosalie’s mantra. Metal crashed against tile in the neighboring room, followed by an anguished grunt.
“Annie?”
A boy’s terrified cry preceded another scream. Rosalie jumped off the bed. Someone yelled for security as she shoved the curtain aside.
“Rosalie?” A hand clamped her on the shoulder.
A tall man who smelled like chocolate and pine slid into her periphery. She stared at the name embroidered on his white coat:Dr. Cannon Ford.“You’re a doctor?”
His gaze fixed on her forehead. “You’re hurt. Get back in bed.”
She shrugged off his grip and pushed into the room where the commotion was coming from.
He followed at her side. “I said, get back. Security is coming.”
“I’m law enforcement, remember?” She reached for her gun that wasn’t there as she blew past Cannon—make that Dr. Ford—and assessed the burly man crowding Annie against the wall. She couldn’t see if he held a weapon, but his hands didn’t appear to be on the nurse—yet.
Cannon slipped in front of Rosalie. “Stand down. I’ll handle the situation.”
Stand down? Oh, hell no.
“Daddy.” A boy on the bed reached for the angry man.
The father didn’t turn. “My son needs a doctor. This nurse is going to find one. Now.”
Rosalie skirted Cannon and stepped over a metal tray that lay on its side. She glanced at the boy. Tears streamed down the five, maybe six-year-old’s flushed, freckled cheeks. One little hand clutched his lower belly.
